


Enough To Make My Systems Blow

by Sometimesyoufly (faile02)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-19
Updated: 2013-01-19
Packaged: 2017-11-26 00:31:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/644584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faile02/pseuds/Sometimesyoufly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It starts on the mat. They claim it's a workout, they're practicing. Really, they need the excuse to hit each other, to bruise and bloody and choke. The fight is over almost before it's begun, Clint succeeding in contact before Bucky has him pinned to the mat, body pressing down, feeling lithe muscles flex underneath him. He's halfway to hard already, can feel Clint thickening up, heat radiating off his body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enough To Make My Systems Blow

**Author's Note:**

  * For [widow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/widow/gifts).



> This was written as gift for my girl, Shannon (Barneybartons, currently), all in text messages, in about 15 minutes. I cleaned it up for posting, but this might be, quite possibly, the dirtiest thing I've written, to date.

It starts on the mat. They claim it's a workout, they're practicing. Really, they need the excuse to hit each other, to bruise and bloody and choke. The fight is over almost before it's begun, Clint succeeding in contact before Bucky has him pinned to the mat, body pressing down, feeling lithe muscles flex underneath him. He's halfway to hard already, can feel Clint thickening up, heat radiating off his body.

It doesn't take long before they're alone in Bucky's room, his arms tied with what was once his shirt, Clint's tongue raising goosebumps over Bucky's hot skin, mouth biting and fingers grabbing.

"Damn it, Barton," Bucky ground out, teeth clenched as tight as his fists. He strained against the ties holding him against the headboard, feeling the wood creak under him. 

Clint hovered over his body, fingers pushing too hard into hips, red marks in the shape of patterns, promising to bruise. A promise for later. He bit at Bucky's neck, drawling out long groans, air pulled between teeth. Scraping his mouth along Bucky's collar bone, Clint followed with his tongue, red lines all along his torso. 

By the time Clint made it to Bucky's cock, it was already at full length, hard and hitting against Clint's face. Bucky groaned at the sight, jerked his hips up as Clint swallowed him, nose into his groin, balls hitting his chin. Just the thought was almost enough to make him come. 

When Clint pulled away, much to soon, Bucky cursed, Russian spilling from his mouth like it was his first language. Clint's smirk was classic. Bucky wanted to punch him. 

But then Clint was lowering himself, Bucky's cock disappeared inch by inch into the clef of Clint's ass, Bucky holding himself as still as he could, until Clint was sitting on him, fully sheathed, pulsing around Bucky's length. 

"Move, you fucker."

The only response he got was a laugh, but then, thankfully, Clint started moving, raising himself up, leaving nothing but the tip, before dropping back down. It was filthy, the way lube and sweat and skin smacked against each other, Clint's eyes closed, Bucky's head thrown back. 

The wood under him creaked again, louder and with more force. It only took a hard tug, splintering, before Bucky's arms were free. With a growl, he had Clint by his waist, flipping them over, pinning him to the bed. 

One of Clint's legs made their way over Bucky's hip, held in place. Bucky's thrusts were merciless, his cock plunging into him, a piston on overdrive. 

This time, it was Clint's turn to curse, hands scrabbling at bedsheets, trying to gain purchase. But then Bucky angled his hips, hitting Clint's prostate one thrust after another and he was coming, shooting up over his chest, yelling out Bucky's name as he saw stars behind his eyes. 

Bucky didn't stop. He fucked Clint through his orgasm, through the clenching and the pulsing, his hand on the base of his cock, holding his own release back. He waited for Clint's eyes to open, his mouth wide, drawling in air, before pulling out, sliding up, and thrusting his cock into Clint's mouth. 

He slid in, hitting the back of Clint's throat, felt muscles try to swallow, and then Bucky was coming, hands in Clint's hair, pulling hard, shooting his come straight down his throat. Even as he was finishing, breathing hard into the room, Bucky stayed in Clint's mouth. Stayed until nails were digging into his thighs and Clint's eyes were watering. 

He pulled out, released his hold on Clint, and flipped back on the mattress. They don't cuddle, but Bucky's arm flops over to rest n Clint's chest.

"Good match," he says, his smirk enough for them both.


End file.
